The Quality of Mercy...Strained.

This blog post is too short. It should be at least five hundred words in order to fulfill requirements of a course of study I have undertaken. It's not that I am ironically straining at others' mercy so much as I am still reeling so badly from the results of having shown mercy that I am composing this with just sixteen minutes to spare before the midnight deadline that I nearly forgot entirely.

I cannot give details, since they would unfairly identify those toward whom I have extended mercy, only to watch them throw mercy to the wind as they throw themselves to the swine. I mean to imply that they are pearls, though they hardly see themselves as such. That explains why they return, instead, to behaviors and relationships and habits that they know are harmful to them, their families, and/or their testimony to faith in Christ.

Jesus said that those who show mercy are blessed, because they are the ones who will receive mercy. I am tempted to quit showing mercy in the face of having failed to accomplish any improvement in the lives of those to whom mercy has been extended. But I wonder if perhaps Jesus had it backwards.

Before you become overly concerned at that apparent heresy, understand that what I mean is that with this Beatitude, as we do with most of them, we may not fully understand just how counter-culturally Jesus' words need to be taken.

If I show mercy in hopes of receiving mercy, then I probably am not truly merciful, but mercenary. I am a soldier-for-hire, doing as Jesus says because I expect to get something out of it.

But the fact of the matter is, long before I ever had any intention of showing mercy to anyone, even before I really understood what mercy was, it was shown to me. Billy Graham has preached on how most of us ask why there is no justice. And yet, he points out, we don't want justice. None of us wants what we deserve as rebellious betrayers of the image and likeness we were created to bear.

What we want, he notes, is mercy.

I didn't know what it was. I just knew what I deserved. And Jesus offered to withhold that, and present me with the blessing of finding, fulfilling, and finding fulfillment in a life purpose for which He designed me before I could ever conceive of such a fact.

I was shown mercy. And in such measure that makes my petty concerns about whether my mercy has a tangible effect on others...well, it just sounds silly at this point. Because if God's mercy were contingent upon my making greatest use of it...I'd have no mercy shown to me whatsoever.

There are five people I have in mind as it nears midnight in a hotel room far from home. I am here, in fact, to show mercy to still others, some of those who actually accept it with gratitude. (Others, however, would prefer that they not be shown mercy, but their objections have been strenuously presented, acknowledged, and determined to be contrary to the answer I get to the question, "What would Jesus have me do?")

So, as the opportunity arises to say "I told you so," or "Pay up," or "No, that's enough; you get no more," I will choose to show mercy. Because Jesus did tell me so, but He doesn't say, "I told you so." I owe Him everything, but he never asks me to "Pay up." And when I have squandered His provisions for my needs on my wants and desires, He still hears and answers my prayer for the resources to meet my needs. Mercy begets mercy. But not mine for His. His came first. Mine, then, has to last.

Hungering and Thirsting after Righteousness: A Case for Declining the Services and Benefits of the American Justice System

One of the first officers I worked with as a police chaplain told me about a paper he had written during his criminal justice education. His thesis was that what we call a justice system is more important to recognize as a system of crime and punishment. Further, he explained, the punishment cannot fit the crime. Otherwise, criminals would consider the cost-benefit ratio of their actions (a willingness to do the time for having done the crime) and include the potential for committing multiple crimes before being caught, or even going without being caught at all. Therefore, punishments must far exceed the actual cost of the crimes committed so that there is a negative incentive that changes the balance of the equation. Those who are caught and convicted must be shown to receive more than retributive justice. They must be made an example of through the vengeful infliction of significantly greater consequences than those they have caused to others.

Some time ago, Paul Louis Metzger wrote about one of Jesus’ Beatitudes. Jesus said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,” to which Metzger’s title adds, “not those who crave fast food justice.” This raises the question for me, “Does vengeful punishment, or at least its potential infliction ‘if caught,’ promote greater righteousness in any individual, family, community, or society?” No. Injustice breeds injustice. Vengeance builds upon vengeance in a cycle that pits entire law-enforcement agencies against the entirety of communities that they are, theoretically, committed to serve and protect. What do the results suggest about this experiment that we call the criminal justice system? It isn’t working.

To further apply Metzger’s analogy, note his quote from London’s Daily Mail about fast food: “Research shows that unhealthy fats found in dairy products, burgers and milk shakes quickly make their way to the brain, where they shut off the alarm system that tells us when we’ve had enough to eat.” I would suggest that there appears to be something similar in our publicly proclaimed punishments and the voyeuristic tendencies to watch Nancy Grace and others pontificate over every minute detail of testimony and technicality. In the pornographically pervasive portrayals of our “justice system” we lose our abilities to discern and pursue the relationships that result both in and from the righteousness Jesus makes possible.

The numbing effects of exposing ourselves to so much of the crime-and-punishment saga has multiple effects. The worst of these, from my perspective (including service as both a police chaplain and prison chaplain), is that we find forgiveness to be incomprehensible. Accepting that others who have harmed us in the past may indeed harm us again in the future, and yet unilaterally pursuing the reconciliation of the relationship with them—this is ludicrously costly. So, what difference can Jesus make if His followers were to adopt something so insanely risky? Just this: those who would buy into the preacher of these beatitudes, we who also listen and follow when He says to forgive as we have been forgiven by God, and when He says to give to anyone who asks of us…we are destined to a similar fate as our Lord faced. No, not all of us will be crucified. But we will each find ourselves making the myriad sacrifices that parallel the condescension described in Philippians 2:5-8. Jesus gave up much more than we often appreciate, long before He gave the last vestiges of His life itself. Will we, as the Apostle Paul requires, "have this same mind which was in Christ Jesus?"

And yet, even if crucified with Christ, we “nevertheless” live (Galatians 2:20). We are subjected to forces that seem sure to destroy us, and yet are preserved throughout them (II Corinthians 4:6-10). And as we implement the ethics of the Sermon on the Mount (in which the beatitudes are found), we entrust ourselves to the miraculous provision and protection that sustains us, up until the time that Jesus completes our service here on earth (i.e., when that which is for the good of we who love Him and are called according to His purpose—Romans 8:28—is to be taken home to His most immediate presence).

As citizens in 21^st Century North America, we are free to pursue justice. But as subjects of God's eternal kingdom we are, instead, called to do justice—i.e., to give to those whom we owe—and to love mercy—i.e., to forgive those who owe us. This requires, as God says in Micah 6:8, that we walk humbly with God. But to demand our rights, to seek to have others inflicted with vengeance for their wrongs against, or to support a system that operates on such principles? To do so is to ignore the calling to righteousness inherent in the gospel, especially in the Sermon on the Mounts, and undeniably in the beatitudes. 

As you consider the wrongs that others have done to you, pray about giving Jesus’ way a try. You may be shocked and awed by the results.

No Apologies, Part Two – What you should say to those who say they’re sorry.

Nice graphic representation of
an imperative sentence.

 In part one, I laid out three common types of apologies, and recommended that we should decline to accept any of them. That left the question, however, “If we were to refuse one another’s apologies, then what do we do about the misunderstandings, offenses and other damage we do in the course of our relationships?” Here’s the answer to that question.

Repentance as an Alternative to Apology – The worst thing about apologizing is that it fails to address any real change in the damaging behavior. Apologies allow us to avoid repentance. But before any suggestion that we need to repent, we need to know what that word means.

Repentance is rare enough in its partial and limited forms. But where some emphasize the emotions of being “sorry” for one’s sins, others portray it as merely stopping a particular behavior, while too few acknowledge that there are accompanying attitudes that need to change as well. In short, repentance involves “all of the above,” along with recognizing and implementing the positive behavior that replaces and displaces the pattern of wrongs that apologies reinforce.

Not a bad idea, especially if you have trouble imagining
the kinds of things that lead to and enable your bad behavior.

In short, here’s what repentance sounds like: “This is what I did. This is how it has hurt you. This is how I propose to repair the damage I have done. And these are the steps I am taking to change my behavior, the attitudes that led to it, and the other ways it shows up even when I’m not harming you in this particular way.” Is this level of detail necessary for every wrong we’ve done? Yes. Otherwise it is too easy for us to ignore the realities that repentance requires.

Jesus said that murder not only has its root in anger, but anger, even when it results only in abusive words, damages so severely as to merit similar consequences. Each harmful action requires repentance, because no single instance of wrong occurs without a supporting cast of underlying attitudes and enabling behaviors. So also it is with the lust that not only may lead to adultery, but that is adultery. Likewise any other breach in our relationships stems from a lack of consideration for those relationships. When we do harm to another, it is because the causes and patterns supporting that harm have taken root within our souls. Therefore, if we choose to repent, then the causes deserve as much attention as the effects.

For more on the "Non-Apology Apology," the "Apology as
Reset-Button," and the "Rationalizing Apology,"
see Part One.

This is why there is still one more element we have to eliminate.

The Folly of False Forgiveness – There is one other factor to be considered in our decision to decline an apology. Too often, Christians especially seem intent on demanding forgiveness in return for an apology. “I said I’m sorry. Don’t be so judgmental. Jesus said you have to forgive me, or you’ll go to hell.” That theology may seem a little warped to some. But the underlying causes of our judgmental attitudes and actions fit the same pattern as above and must be as directly confronted. (e.g., Matthew 6:14-15 and Romans 2:1-4.)

Wouldn’t the wiser path, then, be to simply ignore the wrong, forget the pain, and move forward toward freedom in having forgiven? That is the advice many well-meaning Christians would give. And yet, it requires the pretense that we can “move forward” as though “nothing ever happened.” Practically speaking, that is dangerous. Scripturally speaking, it is unsupportable, even when there is repentance.

God built our brains so that we learn from experience.
Forgiveness is a decision, based on knowledge.
There is no forgetting some of what has been done.

Even when someone claims to be truly repenting, forgiveness involves great risk, and should be undertaken only by those who trust Christ for their protection and provision. Showing mercy is always costly. Yet Jesus does admonish us that when someone comes to us, even seven times in one day, and says that they are repenting, we are to forgive them for what they have done in the past.

Still, forgiveness is not forgetfulness. The patterns of behavior that Jesus noted in the Scribes, Pharisees, Romans, crowds and others suggested that His hearers must constantly be aware of their probable responses and reactions. Whether refusing to cast “pearls before swine,” or to allow the crowds to make Him king by force, or even to let His own disciples thwart His mission by their insistence on turning Him away from danger, Jesus accepted that the attitudes and actions of others would eventually end His life, and yet forgave even those who stood by as He died at their hands.

Had to include this one since it shows my repentance
from intolerance for grammar and spelling errors.

So, we are free to forgive even the unrepentant, of course. But we need not do so ignorantly. Nor are we to do so on the basis of mere words, no matter how “sorry” someone may seem. And even where there is a claim of repentance, John the Baptist’s call to “bear fruit in keeping with repentance” suggests that we would be wise to wait for a new pattern of behaviors to be well-established before choosing to entrust ourselves to the perpetrator in the future.

So, without apology, I recommend that you begin to decline apologies…and pursue repentance and forgiveness instead.

So, how would I recommend you respond to someone’s apology?

“Repent, sinner” works for me.